


Before Dawn

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Kissing, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Fandral and Loki in Loki's bedroom, taking what remains of their time together before the sun rises.





	Before Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> From @sleepysnoozan on Tumblr, "can you write like, a dashingfrost making out scene? It can be really intense or slow & calming :)"

Dawn hasn’t broken yet.

When dawn rises, when the sun begins its slow ascent from beneath the horizon, then Fandral will have to dress, climb down from Loki’s balcony from the trellis of roses and vine that grows against the golden stone, have to flee from the palace… But for now? For the moment?

It is still dark outside, and the two of them lie without candles. From the scant moonlight left to them, Fandral can see Loki’s pale features, the shine of his blue eyes, the straight line of his thin lips. Smiling, Fandral draws him closer, and all he feels his the warmth of Loki’s mouth against his own, Loki’s tongue dragging wet against his own, flicking over Fandral’s lower lip; Fandral is aware of Loki’s body beneath him, is aware of the hard muscle of Loki’s thigh pressed between Fandral’s legs, is aware of the hands Loki has wound around his neck, pressing against the back of Fandral’s head to keep him  _close_.

They kiss for what seems like hours. It is slow, leisurely, like the wax that takes its slow descent down the side of a burning candle, and Fandral wishes this moment could last  _forever_.

It doesn’t. All things must end.

“All things must end,” Loki whispers against his mouth, echoing Fandral’s very own thread of thought without even realising it, and Fandral follows his gaze: sunlight is bursting over the banks of Asgard’s horizons, bathing the dark night in reds and golds and peachy-pinks. 

“What if I stayed?” Fandral asks softly. “What if your footman came in this morning to find another man was attending to your every need?” Loki laughs, the sound low and quiet, coming from deep in his throat.

“Surprising my footman is less like cuckolding a husband than you think, Fandral,” Loki murmurs, and Fandral laughs against Loki’s mouth. “I don’t even have a footman.”

“All the more reason for me to stay…” But Fandral is reluctantly drawing from Loki’s bed all the same, dragging his blouse on over his head, slipping into his breeches. Loki watches him, leaning up on one of his forearms and surveying Fandral’s dress as if this is the best artistry he could possibly wish for, as if Fandral is doing something  _beautiful_  instead of merely pulling on his clothes. Fandral can feel his skin  _sing_. 

“Fandral,” Loki murmurs, and he gestures with one long, graceful finger - it looks pale and unmarred, but Fandral knows that there are scars on it that he can’t see, scars that Loki hides from him. Loki kisses him once more, soundly, beautifully, as if he doesn’t know when he’ll next see Fandral, and wishes to leave his mark on Fandral’s mouth. “Fare thee well.”

“And thee,” Fandral whispers softly. “My heart shall remain here, at thy feet, where ‘ere I next travel.”

“My heart remains in my chest,” Loki whispers. “But my spirit goes with thee.” Fandral is frozen in place by the simple poetry in the words, feeling the warmth of Loki’s hand on his cheek, feel his own lips still held in their ghost of a smile–

There are footsteps in the corridor. Fandral must flee.

Fandral sweeps out onto the balcony, slipping down the trellis.

                                                             —

Alone in his bedroom, Loki stares into the ether for a long few moments, his fingers tracing his own lips, feeling them tingle beneath his touch.  _My heart remains in my chest_ , he’d said, so why does it feel empty?

Sighing, Loki slips from his bed, and he makes his way to his morning bath.

Best not to think of it. Best not to think of anything.

**Author's Note:**

> For my fellow DashingFrost shippers, I've now set up a [Fuck Yeah DashingFrost Tumblr](https://fuckyeahdashingfrost.tumblr.com), and I'm running a [DashingFrost week](https://fuckyeahdashingfrost.tumblr.com/post/174693891923/dashingfrost-week-2018) at the end of the month! Check it out! <3
> 
> Feel free to HMU on [Tumblr.](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com) Requests are always open.


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